His Hair
by RodentFace
Summary: "His hair," she smiled. "I am marrying Harry Potter because he has great hair." Ginny gets tired of the press' stupid questions and suggesting that she's only marrying Harry for his fame and money. So she sets them, ah, straight.


Author's Note: I wrote this mostly because I was sick of reading stories about Harry thinking that Ginny was only with him because he was _Harry Potter_ or the two of them setting the press straight by being super mushy and out of character. I just honestly think that Ginny would say something sarcastic like this instead.

After everything she'd been through, one would think that Ginny Weasley's life after the war would be a walk in the park compared to her teenage years. After all, she was the star-player of a world-famous Quidditch team and also engaged to the wizarding world's most sought-after man, Harry Potter. However, there were times when she wished she were still fighting Death Eaters. And that was partially because she was engaged to the wizarding world-most sought-after man.

You see, with being engaged to _Harry Potter_, comes many challenges, namely, the _press_. And the press is far more challenging than Deatheaters. Both stalk you, make you feel unsafe, make it their life goal to make your life as miserable as possible, and both use any little scrap of information concerning your personal life against you. Really, there was only difference between the press and Death Eaters; Death Eaters you could hex guiltlessly whereas you could get charged with assault for hexing the paparazzi. Trust me, she's tried that before.

Normally, however, she could handle whatever the paparazzi dished out, but sometimes, there were things that just…irked her.

Like when she was looking forward to a nice, quiet dinner with her fiancé at Grimmauld Place after a long, hard day of Quidditch practice and those bitches (I mean witches) at _Witch Weekly_ insisted on hounding her all the way home and bombarding her with ridiculous questions concerning the wedding like, "Who will you be wearing on your wedding day?" _Honestly, who am I wearing? I'm wearing a wedding dress, not a person_, thought Ginny angrily.

"Is it true that Hermione Granger will be your maid of honor?" someone shouted.

"Yes," Ginny said as she tried to escape.

"Who's your wedding planner?"

"We don't have one!"

For whatever reason, this was of great interest to all of the reporters as they all stopped to take a moment to right that down, almost giving Ginny enough time to escape. Almost.

"Who will your other bridesmaids be?"

Ginny stood just outside Grimmauld Place, desperate to go in. "Luna Lovegood and my sister-in-law, Angelina. Now if you'll please…."

"Miss Weasley, is it true that you're only marrying Harry Potter for his fame and money?"

Ginny stopped, completely shocked by the question. "I'm sorry, _what_?"

"Are you, or are you not marrying Harry Potter for his status and money?" the reporter asked, looking her right in the eye, daring her to doubt herself. The other reporters leaned forward in anticipation. Ginny knew that the amount of time she was taking to answer was story enough for half of them.

"Let's get this one thing straight. I am _not_ marrying Harry for his fame or money. _He's_ lucky to be marrying _me_. And another thing, I'm an _internationally famous_ Quidditch player! I took my team to the _World Cup_ last season! I don't need his fame or money. I have enough of that myself, thanks."

"Then why are you marrying him?" the reporter asked challengingly. Ginny glared at him.

She sighed. Why was she marrying him? She could give them a million reasons (his smile, his loyalty, the way her smaller frame fit just so perfectly in his, he was a great lover, he was a perfect gentleman), but even if she did, she knew that they wouldn't leave her alone. "Do you really want to know the real reason?"

The reporters had gotten so quiet in anticipation that Ginny could hear a Muggle car start over on the next street.

"His hair," she smiled. "I am marrying Harry Potter because he has great hair. I don't need fame or money, but with all of my own success, I think I deserve a trophy husband. So I'm getting own who has great hair and is also a great kisser. Even if he is an idiotic, noble git. Now, if you'll excuse, me, I'm going to go have dinner with my fiancé. Oh, and he can cook! Write that down! You can quote me on that if you want," and with that, Ginny skipped up the stairs of Grimmauld Place and through the front door leaving the reporters in a frenzy. Not one of them would have expected such a juicy story. Normally when writing about the magical communities most talked about couple, they had to make up stories, but _this, _this was gold!

Not that any of them really believed a word of it. No. But _that_ was a story that would sell.

Harry Potter, who'd been waiting for Ginny next by the door the entire time, had heard that entire conversation.

"My _hair_?" he asked amused, after kissing his fiancé, of course.

"Yes, I am marrying you for your hair and your hair alone," Ginny smiled. She kissed him again. "Well, at least it was a factor."

He grinned and swooped her off her feet. Literally. "Dinner won't be ready for an hour or so and Kreacher's watching it. What do you say we have desert first?"

"And that would be reason number two," she grinned as she kissed him again.


End file.
